Deus Mortis
by GallonsoftheStuff
Summary: (Or - The Time Hel Got Told Off by Her Boss for Leading a Guy On and Indirectly Causing Mass Destruction Across the Universe.) If there was anything more boring than watching over the dead, it was doing paperwork on them. - Inspired by The Plot Bunny Whisperer's Deus Ex Machina. [COMPLETE]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Absolutely nothing!**

* * *

Watching over the dead was not a particularly interesting job, as Hel viewed it. Sure, it had seemed like the better option when Odin had forced the position on her (what with the fact that the All-Father had chained one of her brothers and thrown the other into the sea to confine them – at least _she_ got to rule over her own kingdom and had some measure of respected power among the Æsir), but as time went on, she realized just how dull it was to be Queen of a realm that, for the most part, only the old and feeble or sick entered.

_Occasionally_ she got someone interesting (like a hero who died outside of battle and therefore fell into her jurisdiction instead of joining the ranks of fallen warriors in Valhalla, or someone like Baldur, who she liked to think of as a bit of a present from her father to her), but those were few and far between, leaving her to listen to the same old stories of normal lives as souls entered her domain rather than anything interesting.

So was it any surprise that, rather than being appalled at the level of destruction and sheer loss of life that he was causing, she was actually a little flattered and quite amused by the lengths a certain Titan went to in order to get her attention? Oh, she'd never give Thanos the time of day – he'd had his chance and ruined it, not to mention what he'd tried to do with her father (Hel wasn't exactly fond of Loki, but family was family, and trying to turn the Trickster god into someone who thought ruling over beings he viewed as ants would be more fun than causing all sorts of chaos among his own people was just plain wrong) – but his actions did serve to alleviate the boredom that came with her job.

Like right now. In the mirror that allowed her to view the worlds at large while cozied away in her throne room (by all that was Deathly in all the realms, that chair was the most comfortable thing she'd ever sat in – Deaths always got the best chairs), she watched the Titan attempt to gather the Infinity Stones, his plots and plans sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing miserably, but never did they cease to amuse.

Honestly, if this were the sort of thing that mortals viewed on television, she could see why they would sit on their couches all day with eyes glued to those screens. It was certainly better than focusing on her own daily dullness. She didn't even mind the influx of souls into her realm – she'd appointed minions to sort them out, and only those with an entertaining tale would be brought before her.

She should have known that it couldn't last though. With the massive scale on which Thanos played at winning her affection, it was only a matter of time before he drew the attention of someone other than herself.

Still, she couldn't say she was expecting it when the mirror's image cut out, black and silver lightning appearing a few feet in front of her, her stomach dropping when she realized the implications of the rapidly forming portal. She had just seconds to right herself on her throne (having been sitting in the position that was the epitome of relaxed entertainment, feet slung over the arm and practically laying down in the seat) before the man that was the only being in the universe that could actually scare of the Queen of Hel stepped through.

"Master Death! What a nice surprise–" she started in a falsely cheerful voice, but was interrupted before she could finish the greeting.

"Do you have any idea the amount of _paperwork_ that is piling up because of you?" The black-haired man spat, his green-eyed gaze snapping with irritation and frustration, the silver and black lightning of the portal matched by that sparking in his hair.

"I–" he steamed right on, her wide-eyed expression and attempt to speak ignored – apparently listening to her was not what he had in mind, and Hel tried to gird herself against what most mortals would equivocate to their boss chewing them out for improperly done work.

"I am _literally _being _buried_ in the wretched stuff! My office is full of it! There isn't even a centimeter of space not occupied by paperwork. _It is covering my chair_." Here Hel would have paled to the shade of a ghost if she had been capable of losing any more color from her face – if there was one thing in the universe that one did not mess with, it was this man's office chair, and it was with that seemingly ordinary statement that the death god knew she was in major trouble. There would be no talking her way out of this situation, even if she'd had a hundred times the ability of her silver-tongued father.

No one touched _the_ Death's chair and continued their existence unscathed.

"How may I be of assistance to you, sir?" she said, her voice a tiny thing in the face of that realization, utterly resigned to whatever punishment or task her boss set for her.

Harry Potter, Master of Death, snorted. "You could have been 'of assistance' six years ago and stopped all this from being a problem then," he stated, his voice no less irritated, but at least containing a few less exclamation points.

"_Now_, you're going to go fix this mess. I don't care if you play nicey-nice with Thanos, or crush his infatuation to the point that he'll never think of killing anyone or anything again, or blast him out of existence. Just fix it!" Harry threw up his hands in a gesture of supreme exasperation.

Hel flinched and sank back into her chair before slowly nodding, feeling small. "Of course," she said smoothly, if quietly. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Harry, who had been in the process of turning around and marching back through his portal, stopped abruptly, his face wiped clean of expression, before he looked over his shoulder at her with a positively frightful grin. Hel _immediately_ regretted asking the question.

"Why yes, I think there is," he said, his smile a most evil thing – yes, she most definitely regretting asking that question. "You can report to my office tomorrow at nine a.m. sharp. You'll be helping me with the paperwork your lover-boy has caused." With that, her boss stepped through the portal, leaving Hel alone in her throne room once more.

Only when she was sure he wouldn't hear her did she groan and bury her face in her hands. If there was anything more boring than watching over the dead, it was doing paperwork on them.

* * *

**A/N: So that happened. **

**Inspired by The Plot Bunny Whisperer's crossover fic _Deus Ex Machina_ and my own relationship with the dreaded monster of paperwork. (If you haven't read that fic, DO IT. Too funny.)**

**PS: A small note on the time period - drawing on information on what's coming up in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, this would be sometime 2018, set during the Infinity Wars. Hence the six years comment, when Thanos first started mucking about with trying to get the Tesseract/first Infinity Stone.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Since this got so much attention in just a couple of days... I decided it wouldn't hurt to add just a tiny bit more, even though it was just supposed to be a one shot. So have some more MoD!Harry and his hatred of paperwork (I totally agree with him there).**

* * *

The dark-cloaked beings of indeterminate gender that were the minions of Death – the big one, the last, the End of All Things; yeah, _that_ Death – were on edge. Why might not be immediately obvious, if one was not familiar with the inner workings of the Office of Death – one might not have even been able to tell that they were on edge, were it not for the miasma of tension that permeated the air around the empathic entities (after all, the hooded cloaks made it rather hard to check facial expressions, and mostly their body language conveyed only that they were very busy) – but if one just waited a few minutes, observing, the reason for that strain would become obvious.

Because within two to five minutes, one of these dark-cloaked beings of indeterminate gender would approach a specific door, very cautiously knock and enter. Sometimes the entrance of one of these beings would be followed by loud and venomous cursing, others by almost quiet groans of frustration, and then the dark-cloaked being of indeterminate gender would rush out of the room. Occasionally, this was followed by silence – more often, there was the sound of something breaking, or multiple somethings breaking.

As a consequence, none of these dark-cloaked beings wished to enter the office of The Boss, even if his frustration and anger was not directed at them. It was not the first time such a thing as this had occurred, and they were of the opinion that it would not be the last (even if The Boss very much wished it would be), but neither thought made the experience any more manageable. It was a storm to be weathered, though one could always hope that it would be a quick one.

Inside the office, utterly surrounded by teetering piles of paperwork, so much so that he was nearly unable to see the door (there were stacks as high as he was tall, not just on the desk, but covering almost every inch of the floor as well – surfaces could not be cleared fast enough to account for what was coming in), Harry Potter sat at his desk, fingers speared into his already unruly black hair, and wondered just what the fuck was going wrong in the universe this time. After the Loki Incident, he had thought the sentient beings of the mortal plane would be much more hesitant to cause the kind of chaos that resulted in his intervention, but apparently, they had learned nothing from the Asgardians. Then again, the Asgardians didn't even learn from _themselves_, so he supposed it shouldn't have been a surprise that others didn't either.

In the past six years, there had been one Incident after another, some on a small scale that he was able to take in stride and felt no need to investigate or directly interfere with, but others… those had inspired more trips to Midgard and surrounding planets (one in particular had given him a migraine that almost rivaled the instant download he had received when he had been forced into the role of the physical representation of Death, regarding how to destroy a being that had basically put itself into everything with an internet connection, _without_ somehow sending the civilized world back to the Stone Age and causing more paperwork than he saved himself in the process) and more displays of power that failed to provide some perspective for the denizens of said worlds.

It was getting to the point where he wondered if there was something else behind it, some kind of madness infecting these people that drove them to pull this shit. Because honestly, if it were just them, he really didn't see how…

His clenching fingers stopped pulling at his hair as Harry went utterly still, the thought finally occurring to him – after six _years_ of dealing with these messes – that maybe there really _was_ something – or _someone_ – behind it all. Very slowly, he lifted his head, the expression on his face stopping one of his minions in its tracks as it came to knock on the door. A wary pulse of inquiry reached him, and if he'd been a little less caught up in his sudden realization, he might have tried to smile reassuringly at it.

"I'm going out," he said instead, standing and reaching for his coat. As with nearly every time before, he could almost hear the being sigh in relief, which still impressed him – muteness aside, they managed to be extremely expressive when they wished to be – as he said the words. Without another word, Harry created a portal and disappeared.

As the portal closed behind him, the paperwork on his desk wobbled, making the dark-cloaked being of indeterminate gender's anxiety skyrocket, stilling just long enough that it relaxed again. It carefully placed the scroll it had come to deliver on a stack near the door and hastily retreated. Therefore, it did not see the stacks on the desk once again wobble, then fall inexorably toward The Boss's chair, covering it too in the paper burial shroud.

* * *

Loki, once again imprisoned in the cells beneath Asgard, visibly paled when he saw the silver and black lightning flashing just outside his little home-away-from-home, scrambling to press himself back against the wall, as if that would protect him from the being that soon stepped through the distinctive portal. He knew better, of course, but he couldn't help the instinctive desire to get away.

When Death looked at him, the quasi-immortal was reminded very forcibly of the day he'd appeared on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier to single-handedly bring an end to the events that likely would have resulted in the deaths of thousands, if not millions, of humans just a few short years ago. It was with that same expression of barely contained fury that the being focused on Loki, making him wish for the tender mercies of his brother, Thor, and his hammer. At least he knew that any damage done by the Asgardian prince would not be so permanent as to follow him into the afterlife. This man on the other hand…

"I have a question for you," Death said, his voice as irate as that day. "And if you so much as _think_ of lying to me, Loki _Silvertongue_, you will wish you had never been born. Understand?"

Gulping, Loki nodded, not one single thought of treachery in his mind.

"Who put you up to that stunt on Midgard?"

It was not a question he was expecting, far from it, but he was smart enough to answer immediately and truthfully – saving his own skin from this being was more important than saving himself from the other, since, again, the other could not mess with his afterlife.

"The Mad Titan, Thanos." If it had been possible to become one with the wall of his cell, Loki would have done it when Death narrowed his eyes at him.

"And why, exactly, did he do that?"

There had been very few times over the years that Loki had missed his brother, even fewer that he'd actively wished for the Thunder God's presence; this, however, was one of those rare occasions. Thor's bulk would have been a very welcome shield from this man's ire. "He wanted the tesseract." Would adding 'my lord Death' be inappropriate? Groveling didn't seem like a bad idea, but then again, who knew how Death preferred to be addressed?

Seeing the exasperated expression on the being's face, Loki realized his short answers were not serving the purpose of effectively redirecting his attention and hurriedly added, "I believe he intended to use it to draw the attention of one of the, um, _other_ representatives of death. One of the females?" His voice rose at the end, an almost hopeful note turning it into a question.

"Oh really?" Loki kept his mouth shut, because while Death's eyes were still aimed in his general direction, it was obvious his attention had turned elsewhere. Again there was a narrowing of the End of All Thing's green eyes, a tightening of his jaw, and a sound almost like a growl that had the Trickster all but cowering in his cell.

"**_Fucking. Asgardians._**"

* * *

To be completely fair, Hel could not exactly be considered an Asgardian, but since she had been born to one, the label was an appropriate as any other Harry cared to give her. The realization that all of this – the chaos, the deaths, the general mass destruction across the universe and subsequent (**_fucking_**) paperwork – had been perpetrated by a man who wished to get the attention of one of the gods of death might have been a little funny under other circumstances, but at this moment, Harry was not in The Mood for it.

But knowing whose fault it was (in a manner of speaking) at least gave him an out – he didn't have to deal with it himself. All he had to do was send off a directive to Hel – all the gods of death listened to him, even if they had their own specific powers and domains – and she would take care of the problem. Perhaps she wasn't even aware of the problem – most of the lives Thanos had taken would not be sent to her realm, so it was always possible she had heard nothing about it.

That was the plan when he arrived back at his office. Until he saw what had happened to his chair in his absence. His chair. No. _Not the chair_. Everything else could be groaning and threatening to break under the weight of all the mess, but his chair was supposed to be free of it. Supposed to be. Yet somehow the paperwork monster had managed to vomit all over his precious seat, until it was barely visible under the white.

Spinning, a thought brought up the image of Helheim, specifically the throne room, and the Queen of Hel casually situated on her throne, laughing as she watched a scene in her mirror – one that Harry was absolutely certain would be causing him another mountain of paperwork to dig through.

The Master of Death snapped, his plan of merely sending a message for her to fix this dissolving the instant he realized she knew what was going on. For this, she was getting a personal visit. Maybe next time, Hel would think twice about leading a guy on.

* * *

**A/N: As stated previously, inspired by the wonderful work by The Plot Bunny Whisperer, _Deus Ex Machina_. If you haven't read that yet, GO DO IT. HARRY COMMANDS THEE!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hel knew better than to put off carrying out an order her boss had given her – it had been ingrained in each of the gods of death that when The Boss told you to do something, you got that shit done, and you got it done **_now_**. So when she finally set out to do so several hours later, she told herself that she had not been delaying what was sure to be an embarrassing and painfully awkward conversation – no, she had merely been setting things in order so that things would not go to hell while she was addressing the… situation with Thanos.

Yeah, even she did not believe it, but the important thing would be convincing her boss that it was true. Given who her father was, she had some faith that she could do it – she just needed to make herself (mostly) believe it as well, before she told The Boss why she had not immediately set out to fix the Thanos problem. If she didn't believe it, at least a little bit, then neither would Harry Potter.

When she could not come up with any other feasible task that would sufficiently serve the purpose of delaying the inevitable, the death goddess grimaced and summoned a portal, taking a brief moment to make sure she looked suitably regal and Deathly, before she stepped through space-time and came before the man-creature intent on obliterating the universe in her name.

To his credit, Thanos did not devolve into some sort of stuttering, drooling mess when confronted with the object of his affections, as she had known some who worshipped her to do. Instead, the Mad Titan blinked, once, twice, in surprise, before opening his mouth to address her.

"My Lady. I was not expecting you. Have you come to congratulate me on my work in your honor?"

Ugh. See, that was why she did not like him. Narcissistic, arrogant ass. She was already scowling when she came through the portal, and yet he did not take it for the hint it was. Really, it just irritated her more.

"Cut the crap, Thanos," she said, wanting to get this whole painful mess over with as quickly as possible now that she was here. "I don't give a flying fuck about your 'work'." The Titan looked taken aback, but Hel continued as if she did not see the surprise and hurt on his face. "You've managed to piss off my boss and he told me to fix it. So here I am, 'fixing' it."

Hel was feeling surprisingly resentful, angry almost, now that she was forced to deal with this creature and his ridiculous infatuation with her – she had given him no reason to think that there was even a remote possibility of her returning his affections, absolutely nothing to make him believe that destroying all life was the way to go about getting her attention. She had barely ever said a word to the guy, for crying out loud!

"My Lady, I do not understand–" she cut him off with an irritated laugh that had him paling. Nothing was quite as frightening in any dimension as an angry representative of Death laughing. If The Boss had done it, Hel had no doubt that Thanos would have pissed himself in fear.

"Then let me spell it out for you – _I am not interested in you_. This whole plot to gain my affection is fucking ridiculous." Hel's previously crossed arms waved about, indicating in an abstract manner the destruction of the universe Thanos had caused. "I never asked you to kill people for me – I'm _perfectly_ capable of doing that myself when I want it done. _In fact_, I am honestly fucking _clueless_ as to how you came to the _erroneous_ conclusion that this was a good way to make me like you. What the fuck were you thinking?"

It was probably the thought of the paperwork that awaited her in the morning that had her so overwhelmingly irate. As far as the perks of being a death god instead of Death itself went, usually _not_ having to do paperwork ranked pretty high up there (right next to the chair, because let's face it, the chair was pretty much the best part). The fact that in just a few short hours, she would likely be up to her eyeballs in the stuff – all because of Thanos – was seriously ticking her off.

"I–" Thanos started, but Hel, just like The Boss had done earlier to her, ran right over his attempted reply.

"_I don't care_. All I want from you, you phenomenal jackass, is to be left alone. Actually, I would be deliriously happy if you never killed again. _Even better_, I would jump for joy if you switched your religion and then _dropped dead_ so that you would be someone else's problem!" By all that was dead and gone in the worlds, she did not want to deal with that paperwork! This was going to be worse than Anubis's punishment had been, far worse. Everyone on the Divine Council would agree with her, she was sure (just as most of them would probably agree that she deserved it, the fickle bastards…)

When she spared an ounce of thought for Thanos again, he was just staring at her, looking rather… stunned. Obviously, he did not know what to do with a pissed off Hel, any more Hell really knew what to do with herself. Sighing irritably, the death goddess held out her hand.

"Give me the Infinity Stones and the Gauntlet," she demanded, only slightly mollified by the meekness with which the Mad Titan handed them over. Why he went after the stones after The Boss had taken the Space stone all those years ago, she could not fathom (unless he somehow thought he would be able to get into Death's Domain and steal it, in which case he was even crazier than she had first thought), but she might as well take the damn things, just so he could not cause any more trouble with them. Maybe Harry would let her off with a lighter sentence for taking the initiative…

In the spirit of that line of thinking, another idea came to her, making her grin rather wickedly, an expression that in turn made Thanos flinch. "Now, just to make sure you don't do anything stupid after this… There are some Midgardians I'd like to visit. You know, to make a gesture of good will." Thanos was not going to like what she had in mind, that much was obvious, but Hel was quite pleased with her idea (not to mention she did not give a shit what Thanos liked or did not like).

* * *

It was happening again. There they all were, strategizing a plan of attack (rather than arguing like a bunch of children like last time), when a weird buzz filled the room, halting conversation as every single one of them turned to look at the source – a portal forming at the back of the room.

Thor could only be thankful that this portal was not streaked with silver lightning and black shadows, as the last had been – he had absolutely no desire to ever meet with the entity most knew as Death ever, **_ever_**, again.

He heaved a sigh of relief, stating, "It's not him," for the benefit of his companions, who visibly relaxed, only to tense again as Natasha asked the obvious question.

"If it's not him, then who is it?"

Thor did not get a chance to answer – though the portal did seem rather familiar, now that he thought about it, he was sure he had seen it before – because a millisecond afterward, a shadow appeared in the portal, followed by another, bigger shadow, and the mix of humans and super-humans (along with the aliens) all took ready stances, prepared for a fight.

Only to be completely flabbergasted as a very young looking woman – despite the fact that half of her body looked like it was dead and skeletal; literally half, like someone had folded her right down the middle and killed the right side of her while leaving the left perfectly healthy – stepped into the room, smiling with such cheer that you had to wonder whose life she was ruining to be so happy, followed by… Thanos, the Mad Titan. The creature responsible for so much death and destruction across the universe – the being that they were all about to go to defeat. He looked absolutely miserable.

(Thor wasn't sure what surprised him more – the fact that his niece had decided to pay them a visit, or that she had brought along their enemy. Or the fact that no one had taken advantage and fired at Thanos – the assassins were showing real restraint there, he thought. They weren't the kind to pass up opportunities like this.)

"Who invited Skeletor and the mad man wrecking half the universe?" Tony (of course it was Tony) asked.

As anyone who worked with the man for longer than five minutes knew to do, Thor ignored him, addressing his niece (and hopefully distracting her from the Man of Iron's less-than-flattering misnomer, for which the death goddess was looking at the mortal with a rather calculating expression, her initial smile gone).

"Hela? What are you doing here?"

From the way her eyes reluctantly moved to him, Thor got the feeling Tony was in for something unpleasant, after the goddess of Hel finished with whatever had brought her here. Still, at least his friend would have a brief reprieve (and perhaps a chance to apologize), if the smile that once again flashed on half of Hel's face was anything to go by. (Tony's muttered, "Blondie knows the half-dead girl. Of course he does," was equally ignored.)

"Oh, nothing much," Hel said blithely before turning and 'presenting' the Titan behind her. "Thanos here just has something to say. Isn't that right, Thanos?"

The alien being grimaced, an expression that only made Hel's grin widen, before speaking. Thor knew he wasn't the only one confused, and the words of the Mad Titan did not help to alleviate that confusion.

"I… apologize for the… trouble I have caused all of you. I cannot undo what I have done, but I would like to offer… my services," Thor could already hear the comments Tony would make about the 'constipated' look on Thanos's face, "to help repair the damage resultant of my schemes." It seemed that would be all, until Hel elbowed the creature in the thigh, which was as high as she could reach, which caused him to grimace, adding, "I would also like to assure you that I will never again attempt to destroy the universe or… kill anyone intentionally again."

With that, the giant seemed to be done, his face truly appearing 'constipated' now, and Hel was positively beaming at all of them. There was a phrase for the silence in the room, which he was sure had something to do with a writing utensil dropping, but Thor could not quite recall it in his shock. This was… even stranger than when Death had shown up and taken the Tesseract.

"Thank you, Thanos," the death goddess said cheerfully, turning to the Mad Titan and making shooing motions with her hands. "You can go back to your deep space hidey-hole again – that will be all."

Clapping her hands, Hel turned from him back to the completely silent team, smiling almost benevolently at them all. "Since I'm sure you didn't believe a word of all of that, I will put your minds at ease. I have the Infinity Stones," briefly, the five glowing singularities appeared behind Hel before disappearing again, "and tomorrow morning they will be safely tucked away in The Boss's possession." There was a flicker of something that looked like a grimace across her face before the Queen of Hel grinned again.

"Now, if you'll excuse me… There's a Titan I need to go make miserable for a few more hours." Another grimace as she turned away, and Thor was sure he was the only one with sharp enough hearing to catch her muttered, "Before Harry makes _me_ miserable."

Or maybe he wasn't the only one, because a moment after Hel vanished back into her portal, Steve asked the room at large, "Who's Harry?" at the same time Tony wondered, "Did that just happen again, or are we all involved in some kind of mass hallucination?"

* * *

It had taken almost twenty-four hours to get his chair clean of paperwork again – during which, the steady stream of documents coming into his office had trickled almost to a stop, and he actually seemed to be making progress in catching up. If it had not been Hel's fault in the first place, Harry just might have been grateful to her for putting a stop to it.

But since it was her fault…

When she arrived at 9AM on the dot, he felt a positively vindictive sort of glee at the dread on her face as she looked around the stacks, piles, and veritable mountains of scrolls, folders, packets and novellas. The death goddess most certainly deserved to help him clean up this mess.

"Sir?" she called, unable to see him through the maze, craning her neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of him.

Harry stood and navigated the paperwork, not bothering to suppress his smile as he greeted his subordinate – it was not a pleasant expression, and he could already see how she was trying not to grimace at the sight of it. Honestly, it just made it ten times better.

"Good morning, Hel!" he said, the cheery tone of his voice causing her to wince – a happy Harry surrounded by this much paperwork did not mean good things for the person his cheer was directed at. "So glad to see you. Here you go." Without any more warning, he grabbed her hand and slapped a scroll into her palm, making sure her fingers curled around it before letting go.

"Those are your instructions. If you have any questions, just ask the minions. I'll see you in seventy-two hours!" With a jaunty wave, the Master of Death grabbed his coat and disappeared, savoring the abject misery on Hel's face as he did so – three days of uninterrupted paperwork was no more than she deserved.

* * *

**A/N: And that's all she wrote, folks! Or at least, all I'm writing for this particular MoD!Harry is Not Amused fic. (As stated previously, check out The Plot Bunny Whisperer's fics, _Deus Ex Machina_ and _Deus Initium_; they are AWESOME, and the former is the inspiration for this lovely piece of nonsense that you had just finished reading, the latter being something new and equally wonderful.)**

**Reviews make me happy, so THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, and THANK YOU to everyone who will. I try to say thanks via PM, but if I haven't/didn't/don't, this is the response. (Critiques are always welcome - I like knowing if I did not pull something off the way I hoped I did.)**

**Follows and faves also make me happy (though not as happy as reviews *shameless non-hinting*), so I want to thank everyone who has followed and favorited. It's great to know when people enjoy what I've written.**


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